


Sickness of Memory

by KaladinsSmile



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, F/M, Major Illness, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 22:37:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18926365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaladinsSmile/pseuds/KaladinsSmile
Summary: TRIGGER WARNING! TRIGGER WARNING! TRIGGER WARNING!There is not active awfulness in this fiction, but Inej was a slave to a brothel and this is about those experiences. NO ONE HARMS HER IN THIS FIC, but she is forced to recall things she usually avoids.This is almost entirely from Kaz's perspective. A little bit of shifting later on.Set in-between the final heist and Inej getting her ship - I just couldn't handle that they didn't see much of one another.Inej is hopelessly sick with a fever that can't be cured with anything but time. She's stuck in a PTSD loop and unable to control her actions and responses to her memories. Kaz is emotional, trying his best, and he'd give up kingdoms to erase her history.She's sick for about four days. Kaz breaks.





	1. The Wraith Falls

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! TRIGGER WARNING! TRIGGER WARNING! 
> 
> Rape, Sexual Assault, and Child Slavery are all things that actually occur in the world. They are horrible, and mercy to all the survivors and caretakers. This fiction is about the healing that happens after the breaking - but there's a lot of breaking first. 
> 
> This is a caring story, but it hurts a lot in the process. That's my favorite thing about Six of Crows - the places it allows broken people to go and the chances they can give themselves in the future. Please, do not read if it could hurt you. I do not gloss around the pain here. 
> 
> The dialogue formatting is strange, but easy enough to pick up. I like the format for writing, but it's a pain to convert to traditional.

Kaz spent most of his evenings whittling away at the stack of paperwork he brought up to his attic office every night. Though his main office had been moved to the first floor where business was easier to conduct, he still preferred to spend his time calculating in the quiet empty space beneath the roof of the Slat where the sounds of his ragtag gang did not frequently echo. Staring into the middle distance at his window wondering if Inej would appear there. Some nights she did. Some she did not.

He was working through yet another page of numbers when the window to the attic opened. He instantly knew something was off, because he heard it. Inej crept. She bled into the shadows and bent them to her will. She did not make noise. So it was with astonishment that he looked up and witnessed her fall through the window, letting it bang shut, as she collapsed to the floor. She didn’t even scout the room to see if it was occupied. It seemed like she just threw herself through the gap and crashed. 

He waited just a moment to see if someone would follow Inej through the window before he lurched to her side. The caution of a barrel rat. Caution kept them alive.

K: Inej. Inej.

He shook her furiously. Her eyelids fluttered. Struggling to focus.

I: Kaz, I feel terrible.

Her usually luminescent skin had faded to the sickly yellow of water-stained plaster. She was sweating, and shivering. Wisps of hair plastered to her forehead.

K: Talk to me, Inej? What happened?

He checked her over, but could see no obvious wounds or even blood. She didn’t look like she’d even been in a fight.  

I: Something is wrong. I feel sick. Came here to be…

Her eyes were glazing over.

I: Safe.

Unconsciousness consumed her.

Kaz gritted his teeth and fought back the water that threatened to devour him, drown them both, as he picked her up, wincing at the pain in his leg, and carried her to his bed. He checked her more thoroughly for knife or bullet wounds. Any tears or blood in the fabric of her clothes. Nothing. He rolled her onto her stomach so he could check her back, as well. After repositioning her comfortably on her back with a pillow beneath her head, he took his gloves off, dipped a cloth in the cold basin of water; then keeping the washcloth as a barrier between them, he washed the sweat from her face and neck. The fevered cast to her reminded him too much of the Queen’s Lady plague. His hands shook as he shoved them back into their protection.

_She’s just sick. Get it together, Brekker. Stop staring and put her knives away so she doesn’t stab herself in her sleep. Then cover her up and get your ass back to work._

It felt strangely intimate – like he was disrobing her, peeking at the skin beneath her clothes without her permission –  as he unbuckled the clasps on her sheathes, pulled the leather straps from about her body.  He knew the comfort and strength that her knives brought her, he knew each of their names. All but one of Inej’s Saints he set on his dresser, across the room from his bed, but he plucked Saint Petyr from the pile and laid it on the crate that served as his nightstand. Inej would not be defenseless.

Kaz settled back, leaning against his dresser and the stack of knives. He just stared at her, memorizing the sight of her laying in his bed. Her brows furrowed even in sleep.

She’d slept there before, on nights when Kaz felt the thrum of the gang was a little too unpredictable, the first time was about six months after she’d joined the Dregs.

Per Hascal had been on a rampage earlier that day about how Inej wasn’t worth the coin it cost him to buy out her indenture, even though she had proven her worth to the gang many times over. After barely two months of training, Kaz had started to take her on jobs and the numbers were in his favor. When the Wraith was involved in one of Kaz’s schemes, it was 50% more likely to be successful. She had never failed him. Per Hascal knew it, too.  Kaz knew Per Hascal was actually angry because one of the older members of the Dregs had gotten himself killed in an alley fight that day. Per Hascal blamed Kaz, who was coincidentally not involved – even he didn’t take out members of his own gang, unless they were traitors – and when Per Hascal wanted to get back at Kaz, he did it by threatening Inej. It irked Kaz that the Old Man would limit his own gang’s capacity for gathering information by threatening his Spider.

Inej had been awake for 48 hours straight helping him with a job that ended in a brawl with a rival gang and recruiting Nina Zenik to the Dregs. When she’d given him her report that night, the tip of her braid, usually perfectly still, swayed like the intentionally over exaggerated motions of the dancers on East Stave.

It was the first time he blatantly went out of his way to protect her, let Dirty Hands slip and the barest glimpse of emotion poke through. The first time he’d let another human being into his small slice of privacy at the Slat.

Kaz had been eighty percent sure that Hascal was just in another one of his moods and that he would simmer down after a few lagers and some sleep. He always did. But that particular evening, watching Inej swaying from exhaustion – eighty percent was not good enough.

K: I’m going out for the rest of the night. I’ll be back close to dawn.

I: You must be just as exhausted, Kaz.

K: I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Stay up here. Get some rest, Wraith. We have work to do tomorrow.

She’d eyed him, putting together the puzzle between his words. The danger he sensed, but didn’t communicate, and the offer of what little protection he could give. People would not look for Inej here. Dirty Hands was not kind to people who intruded on his space. And Per Hascal’s blustering or not, the gang knew he was a monster not to be trifled with.

When he’d returned that morning, the heat had settled. The eight men Inej had killed the day prior cemented her safety and her reputation. Dirty Hands had let the right people know that any action against his Wraith was seen as an action against him and would be handled accordingly.

When he returned in the very early hours of the morning, he’d only glanced in his room to make sure she was there and unharmed, shucked off his vest and tie, then fell asleep in the chair at his desk. It didn’t even cross his mind to stretch out on the bed beside her. He knew demons intimately and had no interest in bringing either of theirs to the forefront. But he could admit to himself that seeing her there, in his space, only after she’d been invited by him directly, calmed him in a way he didn’t understand and was too tired to contemplate.

She woke him with a gentle tug on his sleeve and a nod before heading out the window. She never touched him and she never presumed anything “more” from their interactions; she listened, she observed, and she acted accordingly. He’d slunk off to bed, back sore, but his nerves were easy. And if he’d curled himself into the still warm fabric of his bed, assuming a slightly larger version of the shape she’d been sleeping in – there was no one about to notice.

Right now, watching her fingers twitch in sleep, his weariness and a deceptive want to be closer to her tugged at him. He took a step forward, contemplating crawling into bed beside her to sleep. To do so would be like setting off a siren call begging for the demons they fought to keep tucked away to appear and make playthings of their minds. He strode to his desk instead.

A memory sprung, unbidden, to mind as he attempted to return to the cadence of his paperwork. Jesper hoisting Inej into the air, his long brown fingers splayed across her hips as he spun her around the musty tomb. Twin smiles radiant with joy. The light in Inej’s eyes as she spread her arms and laughed had shrugged off the knot of emotion in her chest, eased the anxious coil of her muscles. Then Nina had pinned the Suli girl into a crushing hug. Jesper’s long limbs encircling both girls. Kaz turned away – flexing his fingers against the head of his cane until they were as white and bloodless as the corpses of his nightmares. 

He shook off the memory, but found it harder to dislodge the idea of him standing in Jesper’s place, her laugh raining down around him as if it was spring in Ketterdam. His hands on her hips, instead.

_Don’t be such an idiot. You’ve tried and failed to conquer your weakness. You’ll never be able to do anything other than stand aside and watch. Stop pining_

A small, unwelcome voice retaliated in the clamor of his mind.

_Jordy has been quiet since you took your vengeance on Pecca Rallins. Maybe, you should try again._

He took a swig of brandy, focusing the burn into a raging fire to eradicate the stupid ideas in his head.

At first he thought he imagined the sound. Some ghost from his childhood haunting the attic of his mind. Then, he heard it again. A whimper. A whisper full of tension.

_Inej._

He flew into the room.

_What is attacking her? I’ll kill them._

 Inej had pressed herself into a corner of the bed, back to the wall, fever beading on her skin. Her eyes were unfocused. Staring into nothing, wide with panic and horror. Her knees were pulled to her chest. Her hands over her ears.

_I must look like that._

Kaz suddenly knew what others saw when he was drowning in the Ketterdam harbor, Jordie’s rotting corpse beneath his hands, flesh peeling away in sheets.

I: No. No. No. No.

K: Inej

He stepped closer to the bed. One step. She reacted violently. Seeing someone else in his place.

I: No. No. Don’t take me back. Don’t hurt me like this. Anything. Any other pain.

K: Inej, talk to me.

I: This place is horrible. I don’t deserve this.

She started lashing out in random arcs, Saint Petyr held in both trembling hands.

I: Kaz said I didn’t have to go back. He wouldn’t.

He was unsure of how to help her, afraid to send her spiraling deeper into her hallucination. She bounced one foot constantly, her eyes scanning back and forth across the small space.

K: Inej, I’d never let you go back to the Menagerie.

She panicked at the words. The name. Flailing. Thrashing. She cut a long slice in the bed. Tears flowing in runnels down her cheeks.

He took another step towards her. Crouching at the edge of the bed. Far enough from the knife blade. His voice was even, but he knew his eyes belayed his worry.

K: Inej. Listen to me. You’re in the Slat. In my room.

I: Kaz. Kaz where are you?

She still couldn’t see him. Head turning this way and that. But she was clinging to his voice.

K:  Focus, Inej. I’m right here. You’re safe.

I: Nowhere is safe.

He reached for her. Gloves still on. Repeating her name.

K: Inej Ghafa. Inej. Inej. Wraith. Inej.

I: Stay away from me!

She threw Saint Petyr, the first knife he’d ever given her, and buried it hilt deep in the meat of his bicep. He stifled the grunt of pain, swallowed it like seawater.

K: Inej. Come back to me.

Barely a whisper. He pulled the knife out with a squelch and a grimace, then directed it into a slide under the bed. The wound would need treatment later. His focus did not waver from Inej.

I: Kaz, I can’t find you. Where are you?

K: Inej, reach out your hand.

He took it, running a thumb across her knuckles.

K: I know you can’t see me, but I’m here. I’m right here with you. I don’t know what you’re seeing right now, but I won’t let anyone hurt you.

I: Kaz.

She crawled toward him. Her brown eyes were open.

I: Kaz, I can’t see you.

K: You don’t need to see me to know I’m here. I’ve come for you.

I: You can always find me. You have always been able to find me.

She was a foot away from him. Hand in his. Before he could stop her, she’d toppled off the bed and into his arms. With a gasp of pain from the wrench in his leg, he held her. Aware of the water rising to take him, but he held on to her. Brushed the hair from her face. Her arm slung around his neck. The sudden contact of her too warm skin was excruciating. But her words centered him.

She’d slid her hand up to his elbow. When she was a foot away from him, she pitched herself towards him. Toppling off the bed and into his arms at an awkward angle. One foot still caught at the height of the mattress. With a wrench of his body, and a gasp of pain from his leg, he managed to heave Inej completely off the bed and himself into a sitting position.

_The water is coming. The corpses are coming. She needs you. Are you just going to leave?_

She was everywhere – one arm slung around his neck, her torso touching his chest, her thigh draped casually over his leg, his own arm at the back of her shoulders and partially bracing her head. She still held his elbow and he’d  shifted his own to her waist. He held on to her, brushed the hair from her face. The sudden press of her too warm skin was excruciating. He wanted to bolt, to let her go. But her voice snapped him into focus. Her hand rising to his cheek.

I: I feel you. I know it’s you.

K: Close your eyes, Inej. I’m here.

I: Kaz, I’m scared.

K: I’m here to fight the monsters, Inej. I won’t let them get you.

She was pressed into the cavity of his chest. Her exhale seeping through his shirt. One hand knotted the fabric of his collar. The other hot against his neck.

He was cold, clammy, shaking. Water on all sides. The harbor waited to take him back. Visions flashed by filled with black spots and corpses surrounded him. He shifted, putting his back to the bed frame. The metal anchoring him. He held her a little tighter, devoting all of his terrible will into focusing on her voice.

I: You are a monster, Kaz.

K: That makes me very qualified for the job, Inej.

His voice somehow did not tremble. Her legs were thrown over one of his. Her breathing slowed. He leaned against the bed frame; she leaned into him.

I: I feel you. You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to touch, to touch me.

She whispered to his collarbone. Fingers tightening on his collar, as if she was in pain at such a confession.

I: Don’t leave me, Kaz. Don’t let me go.

He tightened his arms around her. Pressed a kiss into the top of her head.

K: Never.

She slept again. He was desperately sick. His stomach lurched and he wanted to throw himself out of the window. The water was not receding, but he kept saying her name again and again. Kept her voice in his head. “I feel you. You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to touch, to touch me. Don’t leave me, Kaz. Don’t let me go.” She was too warm. Forehead slick with sweat that could have belonged to either of them. His leg ached. His back hurt. He wanted to move. To set her down and back away. His mind kept exchanging Jordie’s body for Inej’s in his arms. Dead. Bloated.

He did not move. He remained there, rooted to the spot. Blood sticky on his arm as it dried. He couldn’t even feel the wound in his haze. At some point, he began rocking her. Humming a soft song he couldn’t identify except that felt wrong in his rasp. But he clung to it. To her. Twisted the song and the warmth of Inej pressed against him, her confession, into a flimsy little raft in his mind. The corpses bobbed, spectators come to watch him fail, the waves sloshed over his numb legs, but he did not sink. Could not sink for her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaz asks for help - from two on his team and a stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! TRIGGER WARNING! TRIGGER WARNING!
> 
> Rape, Sexual Assault, and Child Slavery are all things that actually occur in the world. They are horrible, and mercy to all the survivors and caretakers. This fiction is about the healing that happens after the breaking - but there's a lot of breaking first.
> 
> This is a caring story, but it hurts a lot in the process. That's my favorite thing about Six of Crows - the places it allows broken people to go and the chances they can give themselves in the future. Please, do not read if it could hurt you. I do not gloss around the pain here.

**Hour Six:**

He must’ve fallen asleep. Everything in his body hurt. Screaming? His mind snapped awake. Inej.

She was pressed against the wall. Crouching on his trunk. Again, her eyes unseeing. A Sankta Alina from the dresser in her hand.

The room was full of light. It must be early morning. 

I: I’m not a lynx.

She held the knife in front of her.

I: I won’t let myself endure this again.

Kaz was on his feet. The note of finality in her voice sparking an immediate need for action. She put the knife to her throat just as Kaz closed his hand around her wrist. She screamed.

He felt his shriveled heart swell then break.

She fought him. His head snapped back with a punch that left his eye already blackening. She was diving for the knife. He caught her. Wrapping both his arms tight around her into a forced hug as the knife pinged against the floor. He felt guilt and panic and pain. But he couldn’t let her go until he put the knives where she couldn’t reach them. He cursed himself for not doing that after she stabbed him the first time, but he’d been up to his throat in panic just trying to hold on to her.

He grunted as she dug her nails into the small of his back. Ripping his shirt and scraping skin. Thrashing.

As calmly as he could, he talked to her while she fought him. Just in case she could hear him. He Told her how the crows were waiting for her to come back to the window ledge. How Jesper complained she wasn’t around to keep him in line. He told her everything he could remember the crew saying when she’d been captured by Van Eck. How she was their loadstone and they needed her to hold them together. It must’ve been ten or fifteen minutes, but it felt like hours.

I: Why? Why me?

She cried. And eventually, faltered in her attack. Woozy with the exertion. He picked her up and set her on the bed. Her fever was high again. Her skin so waxy just looking at her made him sick. Her hands were bloody, but there was no cut in the skin at her neck and he was thankful for just that small fact.

**Hour Seven:**

He made himself walk to the door after collecting all of her knives, his knives too. He looked less like a barrel boss and more like a demon, in a two day old shirt, blood on his face and caked in his hair, one eye bruised as he opened the door and started down the steps. He could hear the blood from his torn back splatter against the floor. Both hands clutching fistfuls of knives. He didn’t even stop for his cane.

K: Get me a medic. Immediately.

He shouted at the first Dreg in sight. They ran off. At the second, he said

K: Find Anika and Pim. I want them in my office as fast as possible.

The Dreg almost opened his mouth to ask if Kaz was okay, but quickly changed his words.

NPC: I think Anika is on a shift at the crow club. 

K: Replace her. I don’t fucking care. Get her here as soon as possible.

He’d only traversed down a single flight of stairs. He walked into Inej’s room. Put her knives, including Saint Petyr, and all of his own knives in the dresser. He grabbed a change of clothes for her – something loose and comfortable. A pillow and a blanket. Trying not to get blood on them as he carried the possessions up the stairs. She was still asleep. Thankfully.

The medic was there before Anika and Pim. One must’ve been close. A female. Thank god. He should have thought about that when he asked.

The medic initially tried to treat Kaz, before he walked her to his bedroom and explained about Inej. The fever, the outbursts, the fact that she couldn’t focus on him and seemed to have no awareness of her surroundings.

M: Was she raped just prior?

K: I don’t think so, but I really don’t know. She was sold into slavery at 14 and forced to work at a brothel. So she doesn’t need fresh memories. All I know is she is sick with fever.  

M: Did you hurt her?

Kaz looked down at himself. He could understand why she asked.

K: No. I carried her to the bed. She woke up screaming and whimpering, thinking she was still at the brothel. She stabbed me. Then I talked to her until she went back to sleep. She can hear me sometimes, but can’t seem to see me.

The medic nodded.

M: You must be very important to her then, to reach through such a panic.

Kaz said nothing.

The medic continued checking Inej’s fever. Her fingers and blood flow.

M: She has a virus. I’ve seen it before, but there is no cure. It seems to exhaust the body which leads to her PTSD activating. She’s stuck in those memories, or a form of them, Mr. Brekker.

K: How can we help her?

M: Sleep. And make her comfortable. This hasn’t killed anyone, but it will take a few days for her body to fight off the fever. Try to get her to drink water when she is awake. It will help rehydrate her and flush the virus out quicker. Here are some sleeping drafts to help manage her episodes.

The medic raised an eyebrow. Then set a second bottle down.

M: And some antiseptic for you both. She needs a bath. To help wash away the remnants she has sweated out. And from the nature of her trauma, I would suggest a female to do it.

Kaz nodded.

K: Already arranged. When should we call another medic if she doesn’t come out of it?

M: In three days, but like I said. There’s little we can do except keep her comfortable and force her to sleep. Her body has to fight it off.

K: Thank you for helping her.

M: I believe you’re the one who deserves thanks, Mr. Brekker. You’re the one taking the brunt of her pain. Try to leave her alone as little as possible. Someone needs to be with her at all times to keep her from hurting herself.

The medic left. Anika and Pim entered the office. Kaz closed the door to his bedroom. And ran a hand through the dried blood on his face and the bit of his hair that had stuck together. He gestured for them to sit.

**Hour Eight:**

A: Boss, are you alright?

Kaz nodded. The Dregs were used to seeing him bloody, but he knew he looked terrible. Haunted, he corrected himself. His eyes were bloodshot, left eye blackening with a bruise, blood smeared across one side of his face where he’d wiped his brow. His left shirtsleeve was red at the shoulder, blood reaching the elbow of the white fabric. When he turned to sit down at his desk, she saw that his lower back was a massacre of tears and blood. Both the fabric and skin uneven, torn as if by a rabid alley cat. His gait was pained, a bit of relief settling across his features for just a moment as he took his seat. He did not lean back.

K: I need your help. Please.

He paused. Anika and Pim wore twin stunned expressions.

A: Boss…

K: This is not a job for the Dregs. It is not a scheme to bring us money. It’s a favor. A … personal favor for me.

He stared at them. Anika was on the edge of her seat, hands shaking slightly. Pim was stoic and sturdy. Steady.

P: What do you need us to do?

Kaz looked at Anika. Her yellow hair shaved on one side. Bright green eyes confused.

K: Anika, you were in the brothels before joining the Dregs, correct?

Pim stiffened. Kaz didn’t miss the protective way he shifted his posture. Anika nodded.

K: Good. That’s what I need. You two have been together for awhile now, correct?

Both sets of eyes widened. Kaz waved his hand.

K: Yes, I knew. Its fine. Frankly, it works in my favor.

P: How is this important to you?

K: Inej is sick. She has some sort of virus that makes her fever dream. Inej came from the Menagerie.

Kaz looked pointedly at Anika.

K: And in her fever dreams, she is stuck there. Every time she wakes ups she is in a panic.

Anika’s voice was small.

A: She did this to you. You let her?

Kaz nodded. Resting his head on his not bloody hand.

K: She doesn’t know. And I don’t intend on telling her. She can’t see what’s going on in this room. She’s only reacting to the trap of her mind. The medic says her body has to purge the fever herself. There’s not a treatment or a cure. Just to keep her comfortable and hydrate her if possible.

A: What do you need us for?

K: I need food. And help caring for Inej.

He gestured to himself.

K: Yesterday when she came through my window she collapsed. I was whole and unwounded. You see the state I’m in now. The medic estimates it will be three more days before she comes back to herself.

He looked at them both. Started massaging his temples.

K: I’m not supposed to have weaknesses. I’m a barrel boss. I’m not supposed to care about people. And you, my crew, sure as hell are not supposed to know about it if I do. Telling you puts us all at risk. But I need help. Inej can’t be left alone. She’s already tried to kill herself once. There will be compensation of course.

Pim took Anika’s hand in his.

P: What do you need us to do?

K: Pim, I need you to run the dregs for a few days. A week at most. I’ll come up with some cover story about a job Inej and I are on to help alleviate the tension. I can’t leave her and I need someone I trust to run the gang without giving away to them why I’m not around. That’s you.

P: What about Jesper?

Kaz quirked his lips.

K: Jesper is a good guy. He cares deeply for Inej and he’d surely help if I asked. But have you ever seen him try to keep a straight face and tell a lie?

P: Good point. I’m in.

K: Anika, I need you up here with me several times a day. I need food, water, and you’ll run messages between Pim and I. Also, I need you to give Inej a bath. You’ll understand why I need a female to do this with Inej’s current state?

Anika nodded.

A: I understand.

Kaz gestured to his room.

K: You can use my bathroom. The water isn’t hot, but it is warm enough. There’s a change of clothes I took from her room. And, Anika, talk to her. She can hear us, but I don’t think she can see us. But you can sympathize with what she’s going through and I think that will help more than I can.

Kaz looked to the bedroom, Inej was rolling over and he could hear her shuffle, but she must’ve gone back to sleep after a few moments because he didn’t hear anything else.

Kaz looked back towards Anika.

K: I won’t let her hurt you. If she attacks someone, it needs to be me.

A: Why are you letting her do this?

Kaz fixed her with an icy stare.

K: Would you want to be alone? Helpless in a fever where your dreams only take you back to places that you thought you’d escaped? Surrounded by memories of people who only use you and toss you aside. Break you and then hurt you more for being broken?

A: No.

Kaz stood up.

K: Anika, I am a harsh person. I grew up in the barrel. I’ve cheated, stolen, lied, and murdered to get the things I wanted. To get a little piece of this city. Pain is my native language. I don’t care how much she hurts me, as long as she wakes up. As long as she wakes up, I can endure a little more.

He sighed. Heavy with admitting things his crew should not know and with being someone who needed to admit these things.

K: Do you want to talk compensation now or can it wait? This requires absolute secrecy. If you ever tell anyone else about this, all of us will be in danger. Inej, because someone will use her to get to me. Both of you, because you know and because I’ll kill you slowly in front of each other. Are we clear?

A; Business as always, boss.

P: I’ll go tell the dregs to report to me.

He walked to the door.

A: Wash yourself up while I go get some food. You can eat while I give Inej a bath.

K: Anika, Pim – thank you.

\--

Kaz washed the blood from himself. Bandaged his shoulder and iced his eye so the swelling could go down. The worst was the bloody mess of his lower back. The skin was hanging in shreds, so it was hard to clean. He settled on ripping off what he could, wiping it off and covering it up.

Inej slept through the bath. Anika washed her hair and braided it loosely at her back. Cleaned the blood from her hands and beneath her finger nails. Changing her clothes before she called to Kaz to carry Inej back to the bed. He’d changed the sheets while she was gone.

After situating Inej on the bed, Kaz sat on the floor leaning against the dresser. Anika brought him a pillow and a glass of water, he nodded his thanks. Staring at Inej.

A: Kaz, what are some things she loves? I want to pick them up so that when she wakes up she’s surrounded by comfort instead of… well… she waved her hand. This emptiness.

Kaz raised an eyebrow and chuckled just a little. 

K: Are you saying my room is empty?

A: Kaz, there’s nothing in here that isn’t practical.

When he answered her, his eyes were far away again.

K: Wild geraniums.

A: I’ll pick some up, and a bear or something for her to hold.

The Suli girl was so frail laying there in the fading evening sun. Sweat beading on her forehead again.

Kaz looked at her quizzically.

K: Does that.. help somehow?

A: What you never had a stuffed animal? Of course not. I’ll bring dinner up close to six.

She paused at the edge of his doorway.

A: She doesn’t have the tattoo.

K: I know. Keep that to yourself, though.

A: Why?

He shook his head.

K: I couldn’t force her to take it. I should have, but she cut the menagerie tattoo off of her arm the moment I gave her a blade. Just hacked it from her skin like it was a poison. So I told her to be useful instead and wear her sleeves long.

A: That was kind of you.

Anika left and Kaz let himself breath. He’d hated himself for inviting them up here into his space. For exposing his secret weakness and Inej to Anika and Pim. He’d chosen them not only because they were loyal and Anika had been in the brothels, but because they’d been together for over a year and were fiercely protective of each other. If anyone in the dregs could be trusted and understand his desperate desire to help Inej, they would.

He looked around his room. Empty. Anika was right. There was nothing comforting here. Monsters didn’t need comforts, he told himself. Only practicality. But his eyes strayed to Inej and he could almost hear the sound of her sharpening her knives at his window.


	3. Bare Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaz takes off his gloves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anika gets a perspective here. Oh, this breaks my heart.

**Hour Twelve:**

He’d dozed off again. Less sleeping, more hovering just on the edge of his consciousness. He snapped awake as he heard glass break.

She had smashed the cup of water beside the bed.

I: It’s this terrible skin. They all want my skin. I’ll carve it off.

She pressed the glass to her skin on her forearm. Slicing as if to peel it away.

K: Inej.

He lunged for her. Taking the glass gingerly from her fingers. She didn’t fight him this time.  

I: Kaz.

The clouds had parted in her bruised eyes, she could see him.

I: Kaz, can I have your skin?

She could see him, but she was definitely not lucid. Tears were streaming down her face. She was sitting up. Rocking slightly.

I: They came for me because of my skin. “ You have such beautiful burnt caramel skin.” They’d all say. So much pain because of my skin. I want to take it off.

K: I would give you mine, but it scares people away.

I: Not me.

Her voice a whisper.

Kaz held her gaze. Watched her eyes unfocus again. Slipping away. He reached for her, to settle her back to sleep.

Inej screamed.

I: Not the man with gloves. Not you again. Don’t.

She was scrambling as far back as she could.

I: Don’t strangle me again. No. Please. Not you.

Kaz’s vision swam. Flames licking at the edges of his eyes. He tried to keep it from his face. She was barely breathing. Choking from the memory. Choking in her memory. Kaz ripped his gloves off. Bare of his armor. And reached for her again. She did not resist him this time.

K: Inej.

His voice cracked. He pulled her from the bed and into his lap. Cradling her against his chest. Crying. Kaz was crying. 

K: Inej. The gloves are gone. There’s no one here hurting you.

She continued choking. Then gasping violently before leveling out with great heaves of breath. She slid her fingers into his.

I: Kaz… I can see your hands. They look like home. 

And she blacked out.

 

* * *

 

Anika had opened the door quietly, hoping both parties in the room were asleep. She’d brought food and water. They were not asleep. Inej was backed into the corner of the bed. Blood on one of her forearms. Kaz was kneeling at the edge of the bed. He reached for her. She could see he was trying to be gentle, to move without scaring her.

I: Not the man with the gloves. Not you again. Don’t. Don’t strangle me again. No, please. Not you.

The girl was petrified. Choking even though Kaz wasn’t touching her. Anika watched in silence as Kaz ripped off his gloves and pulled the horrified girl to him and off of the bed. Into his lap. He cradled her so Tenderly  in his arms. She was still choking, then her breath came in heaving gasps. She took is hand, then. His bare hand.

I: Kaz… I can see your hands. They look like home.

 Anika could see the tears dripping onto Inej’s face and Kaz’s bare hands as he tried to brush them away. The white of his skin stark against the Suli girl’s cheeks.  

She set the tray down on his desk as silently as possible and backed away. She was also crying partially at Inej’s horror, but mostly at Kaz’s tenderness. The way he suffered alongside the girl.  

A: Inej, please wake up. Please.

 

* * *

 

The water should have appeared to take him under. The blackness should have consumed him. He should have been able to feel Jordie’s flesh peel away beneath his fingers, glassy eyes reflect the starlight. He’d worn the gloves for years. A piece of his legend. A consolation to his weakness.

But when he was trying to wipe his own tears away from Inej’s cheeks he could only focus on he pain she’d endured, the warmth of her skin and her soul. And the hatred he felt toward himself when she’d been afraid of him. Afraid of his gloves. He would never put them on in front of her again. He would drown first.

Except, he wasn’t drowning. Clarity almost brought the tide with it, the cold of the harbor water, but he clung to Inej. Clung to her fear and her strength and her need of him. Her voice: “They look like home.”

K: Come back to me.

He spoke to the top of her head. He did not sleep. He did not set her down.   


End file.
